


might know my soul, but not much else

by youngerdrgrey



Category: Queen Sugar (TV)
Genre: Gen, Season 2, post-2x07, prompted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 00:33:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11680296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngerdrgrey/pseuds/youngerdrgrey
Summary: Ideally, after the opening of the mill, Charley would’ve been clinking wine glasses with Remy in the barracks. Instead, she’s texting him, telling him, “The next time you want to hurt me, keep my father’s name out of your mouth.”or,a response to 2x07, I Know My Soulalso, tumblr user@loco4scandalsaid,What about Remy siding with Rah on this will/farm & Charley feeling betrayed?





	might know my soul, but not much else

**Author's Note:**

> [Anyways, also, prompts are always welcome. Timelines are ambiguous. I have a lot of feelings.]
> 
> SPOILERS for 2x07 below.

 

.

.

.

_you cannot_  
_remain_  
_a_  
_war_  
_between_  
_what you want to say (who you really are)_  
_and_  
_what you should say (who you pretend to be)  
_ _your mouth was not designed to eat itself_

_— split,_ Nayyirah Waheed

+

_“When you decided to buy this place and stand up for the farmers that made sense to me, ‘cause it was both smart and considerate of your community. It was thoughtful. But now I wonder if I misunderstood your father. Yeah, maybe, maybe thoughtful meant calculating.”_

— Remy Newell

.

.

Charley circles her jaw twice before she sends the message. Her therapist likes to make pointed reminders about her channeling her aggression properly. She says that Charley needs to ease into conversations rather than coming in so hot that she scorches all hope at mending fences. But, if Remy had wanted a conversation, he should’ve known better than to come at her like that. He should’ve known better than to insult her in the same breath that he praises her. He just… he shouldn’t have wielded her father’s name as a weapon.

 

> _To Remy Newell // Today (3:12 pm)  
>  _**Charley:** The next time you want to hurt me, keep my father’s name out of your mouth. You want to tell me how disappointed you are, or question my character? Do so directly. I have enough to deal with between Ralph Angel disparaging his legacy so just save me the mental gymnastics in the future, alright?

She sets her phone down on the table once it’s sent. Rests her hands on the wood too. Micah’s typing in his room; his laptop keys sound from over there. He types just about as fast as she can, though his comes from a sort of generational understanding of technology. He’s never known a world that couldn’t hear him. Never wanted for a space where he could both be heard and be invisible at the same time. He’s never wanted for much of anything.

At least, she remembers his life that way. Remembers huffing her cheeks to help him blow out his birthday candles. And whispering with him in movie theaters before he was old enough to know better. What will she remember from this time in his life? The silence? It’s not quite quiet though; there’s always noise in the barracks, just not aimed at her. It’s his laugh coming in from down the hall, or split seconds of his voice when he first gets on the phone and talks extra loud before he puts his headphones in. The FaceTime ringing for somebody else.

Her phone lights up with a speech bubble. Three dots blinking before they disappear. Remy composing his apology. Remy doesn’t understand how she could be anything other than cold if she is calculating. If she is thoughtful and deliberate, then where do emotions factor in? If she is the strong woman who needs no help, has no fears or doubts or pain, then why do the rest of them even exist?

 

> _To Charley Bordelon // Today (3:13 pm)  
>  _**Remy:** Honestly, Charley, I meant no disrespect. Not to you. Not to your father. I was just thinking aloud.

That’s it? He means no disrespect?

He chooses his words just as carefully as she does. He practically thinks in fully formed sentences and anecdotes. Yet, she’s calculating. Maybe he should keep his thoughts to himself.

Well, maybe not exactly. If he kept it all in, he’d just stop talking to her. Join the line of people who seek to find solace in someone else rather than ever actually bringing her in. Be like this new version of her son, or any version of the rest of her family. She and Nova didn’t start speaking again until they lived in the same state. Even then, even now, the honesty’s something Charley has to reach for. Strive to accept and acknowledge her own emotions without projecting them onto her sister. Assume kindness rather than an attack. Remy could deserve that same sort of opportunity.

 

> _To Remy Newell // Today (3:14 pm)  
>  _**Charley:** Then why mention him at all?

Her father should’ve been proud of her. He was. She is an amazing business woman, a great mother to Micah through everything. Her daddy would’ve been proud of her, and for Remy to question that — to imply that she is somehow less than deserving of her father’s love is the very definition of disrespect.

 

> _To Charley Bordelon // Today (3:17 pm)  
>  _**Remy:** Because he’s a part of this, Charley. At least to me. I started working with your family out of respect and love for him above all else. His stories about you convinced me that you could handle what all this work could do to you. But his stories also come from a different place than what it is that I’m seeing. He saw the victories, not the process. Seeing the whole picture is a little disconcerting, at times.

> _To Remy Newell // Today (3:20 pm)  
>  _**Charley:** You knew before any of this that I wasn’t someone who could be steamrolled or short-changed. Yet now you’re acting like this is the first time you’re seeing me. Like you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into.

> _To Charley Bordelon // Today (3:22 pm)  
>  _**Remy:** Honestly, I don’t know if I did.

But he’d been there when Davis first came to NOLA and she ended her marriage. He’d been there when she fought with Nova during the hurricane. He’s been stood up for business deals and carted out to family dinners. Remy’s seen her at her most vulnerable and inconsistent. These decisions aren’t all that she is, but they are who she has to be. To get the job done. He had no problem with that when she decided to take a chance on his sugar cane. No problem when he got to officially sign on as a consultant and reap the benefits that entails.

Does he even know what the last few days have been like for her? Does he even want to?

 

> _To Remy Newell // Today (3:24 pm)  
>  _**Charley:** What does this mean? Moving forward?

Professionally, he should appreciate having a contact who is willing to make the hard choices in order to do what’s best for the business. She cares about the farmers and their legacies and wants to offer them fair opportunities. She doesn’t want to give free passes and chances for people to walk all over her, but she will do her best to keep everything above board and honest. It’s more than she can say for her brother so, it’s something.

 

> _To Charley Bordelon // Today (3:26 pm)  
>  _**Remy:** I don’t know if this is a conversation we should be having over text messages.

Personally, he’s seen her crumble at the loss of her life. He’s seen her claw her at every opportunity for failure until her hands shake. He’s seen her when she needs someone, and it’s still not enough.

 

> _To Remy Newell // Today (3:27 pm)  
>  _**Charley:** This way, you can finish your thoughts and I can finish mine.

Maybe they’ll finish their whole relationship.

She settles back into her chair, pulls her legs up onto the cushion with her. Keys keep clicking in the background while the typing bubble animates on her screen.

 

> _To Charley Bordelon // Today (3:30 pm)  
>  _**Remy:** Fine. It’s hard, Charley, knowing that you can leverage pretty much anything for the right price. How do I know that our whole relationship (because we do have a relationship whether or not it’s an official one) how do I know it’s not just another pawn to you?

Maybe they should be on the phone. She could let him hear the way her breath shatters before it can leave her lips. Let her jaw shift against the microphone as she struggles with the right way to form her response. Her chest folds in on itself. A pawn. For the last two decades, she’s cared about one man. One. And she’s loved him, been in love with him, and hasn’t wanted for anything else until Remy. But sure, he’s a pawn.

 

> _To Remy Newell // Today (3:31 pm)_  
>  **Charley:** Why would it be? Because of Davis?  
>  **Charley:** What do I owe, Davis? What says that I have to still account for his feelings when he spent at least three years ignoring mine?  
>  **Charley:** The news of my divorce is mine to share when I see fit and how I see fit. Whatever is happening between us is a completely different conversation. All I can give you is my word, Remy, and if that’s not enough, I don’t know what else I can do.

If all he sees are the worst parts of her, then this will have to be it for them.

 

> _To Charley Bordelon // Today (3:33 pm)  
>  _**Remy:** Not to be that guy, but I asked you to take my word yesterday and you refused.

She shakes her head.

 

> _To Remy Newell // Today (3:34 pm)  
>  _**Charley:** That’s business.

> _To Charley Bordelon // Today (3:35 pm)  
>  _**Remy:** What isn’t with you? Your divorce is business. Your family’s farm is business.

> _To Remy Newell // Today (3:36 pm)  
>  _**Charley:** Ralph Angel’s* farm apparently

Not that he deserves it. Charley’s got two degrees, but Ralph Angel should have the farm.

 

> _To Charley Bordelon // Today (3:37 pm)  
>  _**Remy:** Nobody said that

> _To Remy Newell // Today (3:38 pm)  
>  _**Charley:** Apparently Daddy did. Ralph Angel showed us a letter that he says Daddy wrote, changing the will and leaving the whole farm to him. As if he could run it without my help.

> _To Charley Bordelon // Today (3:39 pm)  
>  _**Remy:** Why couldn’t he run the farm alone? I mean, he needs more experience, sure, but he understands farming in a way that’s part training and just part instinct.

She almost swipes into a phone call the second she reads that.

 

> _To Remy Newell // Today (3:40 pm)  
>  _**Charley:** You can’t be serious

> _To Charley Bordelon // Today (3:41 pm)  
>  _**Remy:** Why can’t I be serious?

> _To Remy Newell // Today (3:42 pm)  
>  _**Charley:** Ralph Angel can barely take care of himself, let alone eight hundred acres.

> _To Charley Bordelon // Today (3:43 pm)  
>  _**Remy:** I thought you were passed this

> _To Remy Newell // Today (3:44 pm)  
>  _**Charley:** He nearly loses the farm every time he’s left to his own devices, but I’m supposed to trust that he won’t ruin our family's legacy? He barely got approved for that young farmers loan. There’s only cane in the ground because I could pay for it and because you lent it to us.

> _To Charley Bordelon // Today (3:46 pm)  
>  _**Remy:** He’s doing better than a lot of other farmers when they got their starts. Your brother has a gift for this work, and the sooner you all actually allow him to do it, the better you’ll all be for it.

> _To Remy Newell // Today (3:47 pm)  
>  _**Charley:** Oh that’s what you think?

> _To Charley Bordelon // Today (3:47 pm)  
>  _**Remy:** That’s what I said, isn’t it?  
>  **Remy:** The tone, I’m sorry

> _To Remy Newell // Today (3:49 pm)  
>  _**Charley:** Don’t be. Honesty’s what we need right now. If everyone would just stay honest, we wouldn’t even be in this mess.

She could have her feet wading in her pool, eyes set to the mountains.

 

> _To Charley Bordelon // Today (3:49 pm)  
>  _**Remy:** Which mess?

> _To Remy Newell // Today (3:51 pm)  
>  _**Charley:** Any of it. I’m only here because of Daddy’s farm. If I’d known it wasn’t mine, I would’ve stayed in LA with Micah. But instead I got sucked into this world. Your world

No speech bubbles pop up for a whole minute. First time the screen goes static in the whole of the conversation.

It is his world. He lives this farming business just as much as Ralph Angel, even if Remy’s more on the academic side of it all. He bred his own type of cane for christ’s sake.

 

> _To Charley Bordelon // Today (3:53 pm)  
>  _**Remy:** Now you regret staying down here?

She sinks into her seat before it feels too stagnant, too much like giving in. She’s not giving in. She doesn’t — She sits up.

 

> _To Remy Newell // Today (3:55 pm)  
>  _**Charley:** I regret trusting Ralph Angel not to make everything about him. I regret not speaking out sooner about my own needs in this family. I regret not being there when my father needed me and winding up with nothing but this

She hits send too soon. Mid-phrase means he’ll build his own end to that sentence. She barely has an end herself. If she hadn’t left LA, she’d be dodging questions from fake friends who want to know what comes next for her and for Davis. He’d been suspended, so he probably would’ve gone to New York with Felix. Lena would be there too, probably actively fighting for her reality show to still happen. Micah wouldn’t have an easy time getting into another school, but they would’ve figured it out. Or simply fought to keep him where he started. Micah never would’ve had a run in with the police. Charley never would’ve moved into the barracks, or spent so much time at Violet’s house. Couldn’t’ve offered Darla a new job or any professional advice. Honestly, Charley wouldn’t have really gotten a chance to know Darla at all. Or Hollywood. Or Blue.

Staying down south might not be the issue. Staying silent might be.

 

> _To Charley Bordelon // Today (3:57 pm)  
>  _**Remy:** “but this” ?  
>  **Remy:** Charley just because you can’t get your way doesn’t mean you storm off and take your money with you. You’ve pledged your support to your brother and all of these farmers.

> _To Remy Newell // Today (3:59 pm)  
>  _**Charley:** I’m not going anywhere.

> _To Charley Bordelon // Today (4:00 pm)  
>  _**Remy:** But you want to

Every word she doesn’t say hammers at the inside of her ribcage. She types so fast her nails practically scratch her screen. Her lips move with the words, voice rising as she goes.

 

> _To Remy Newell // Today (4:02 pm)  
>  _**Charley:** I want a choice! I want to get a say in what happens rather than getting sucked into helping everyone else. I’ve said it before, I could sign a check from anywhere. I thought aht for once, we could do something together, as a family. But Ralph Angel decided he doesn’t want the rest of us around anymore.

Nevermind the fact that without her, he could be in jail right now for having Daddy’s gun in the house. Blue would be right back at Vi’s. Or at the trailer park with Darla. The farm would go untended. The whole Bordelon legacy wiped out just like that.

 

> _To Charley Bordelon // Today (4:03 pm)  
>  _**Remy:** When have you ever taken what he said at face value rather than questioning it?

She didn’t fight him on the white flies.

 

> **Remy:** You never consult. Never ask for permission. You tell people what’s up after you’ve already done it.

> _To Remy Newell // Today (4:05 pm)  
>  _**Charley:** He’s the one who lied to all of us.

> _To Charley Bordelon // Today (4:06 pm)  
>  _**Remy:** God Charley who raised you to see every omission as a lie?

“Everyone!” Her lips crack when she speaks. Throat croaks. She sets her phone down on the table, but her fingers pulse without the screen beneath them. She tries scanning the barracks for some sort of peace. A few breaths could get her pulse back down. But it’s just — he’s asking about omission, but wasn’t he mad about her omission? Wasn’t he — you know what, he wants to talk, then they can talk.

She hits the information button and the call symbol. Forces herself to take three breaths before she puts the phone to her ear.

“Charley—“

“You just finished snapping at me for omission, you get that, right? For not sharing my plans, I am calculating. And stubborn. And in the wrong. But when Ralph Angel does it, it’s just a little misstep. Am I hearing you correctly?”

“Charley—“

“Am I?”

“I’m not trying to fight, Charley.”

“Well, a fight’s what you got.” What else can she do but scream until someone hears her? “God. I don’t get it. I honestly don’t understand what I have to do to get anyone in this family to even look at my side. The only one who even tries is Violet.”

“I’m trying.”

“You’re accusing.”

“No, I’m not. I asked. In your office, I asked how the same woman using her divorce to further her business plans is the same one who-who I heard about for years. I wasn’t accusing you of anything. I’m trying to understand you, Charley, and you are making so damn hard to do it.” He huffs. “I have never known anyone like you. But I want to.”

She’s spent the last two days begging for someone to listen. Or not listen, during the whole choke fiasco. He saw that, right? He sees more than any of them give him credit for.

She shifts lower in her seat, so she can rest her head against the back of it. He says he wants to know her. “I never thought anyone liked me down here. I was always too California for New Orleans, so I always had to be the best so they wouldn’t ignore me. Be smarter than the rest of my family. More put together. Early acceptance into college, a future NBA player for a boyfriend, and even when I had Micah, I nearly killed myself trying not to be another young mother cliche.”

But college is hard enough without a newborn, so then came needing help. Needing professional help, not just what she could get from friends and the other basketball wives. Davis’s money went straight to childcare costs and living costs and textbooks that her slipping scholarships wouldn’t pay for. But she didn’t falter. She just found a way to make it through. Now here she is, tired but here.

“You made it,” Remy says.

She nods. “I did.” She can’t hear the keys anymore. Micah’s probably watching something at this point. “But Daddy still left the farm to Rah. And I don’t want to say anything bad about him. He loved me so much. He never let me forget it, but…. I made him a promise, and for the first time, I’m wondering if he even cares.”

“What was the promise?”

Her throat itches. She swallows around it. Circles her jaw. “To make things right.” But fixing everything for the farmers doesn’t mean everything’s okay. She’s not. Her family’s not. Rah and Nova haven’t been in bad shape since he first got out, and even then, they just swept it away as best they could. They never unpacked all of that. And if he’s mad at Nova for not being around, then he must be furious at her. And Micah….

He watches her sometimes like he’s trying to see which one of them will break first. Like if he starts talking about his own weaknesses, then she’ll have to do the same, and then they’ll never stop. Like he’ll cry so much that she’ll cry right with him. He’s not wrong, just not ready, she guesses. Not ready to talk about people who can’t see their humanity or why the Range smelled like urine for days.

Remy says, “You don’t have to do it all. Nobody’s asking you to be perfect but yourself.”

She laughs, despite herself. Light wrestling its way out of her chest. “My, uh, my therapist said the same thing.”

He laughs too. “Maybe I’ll add therapist to my resume. I’ll be an irrigation specialist, a professor—“

She nods into the familiar rhythm. “You cut hair.”

“I make a mean pie.”

“And a great friend.” She picks at the polish on her nails. She should probably apologize, for snapping, even if he had crossed the line with his story. If they’re ever going to have anything, they have to be able to communicate freely. Without fear that every sentence, or action, that the other disapproves of will mean the end of what they’re trying to start up. “I—“

Her phone buzzes against her ear. She pulls it back to read it.

 

> _To Mom (Charley Bordelon) // Today (4:15 pm)  
>  _**Micah:** Wanna try out the ice cream maker?

“You…?” Remy prompts.

She blinks back to the moment, brings the phone back to her ear. “Sorry, text from Micah.” It’s so easy to make simple apologies. For a missed moment, or overreaching, but for actually hurting someone? “He wants to make ice cream.”

Remy gives a tiny groan. “Homemade’s always the best. Go. We can talk later.”

Once this conversation ends, though, so does the honesty. “You can’t question my character every time I make a choice you don’t like. You can’t use my father against me. You can’t side with Ralph Angel and expect me to just be okay with it.”

He clicks his tongue. “You can’t just kick me out when you don’t want to talk. You can’t shoot down valid business ideas without an explanation. You can’t expect me to choose your ideas just because they come from you.”

But she has good ideas. And her explanation for shooting him down was reasonable and necessary with the drama going on at Vi’s. And if they’d stayed in her office, she probably would’ve said something she couldn’t take back.

“That’s asking for a lot,” she says.

“So were you.”

“I’ll think it over.” She lets her feet down to the ground again.

“There you go being thoughtful again.” He drums on something on his end — knuckles to a desk maybe. "Tell Micah hi for me.”

“Will do. Bye, Remy.” She waits for his goodbye before clicking off the line. Takes another beat before calling out, “Remy says hi!”

Micah shuffles over without missing a beat. “That’s nice of him.” Charley hums rather than responding. Micah’s shoulders hunch, his ear are a little too red, so he must’ve been listening in. She didn’t say much out loud that she wouldn’t have wanted him to hear. Still, he should know better than to eavesdrop. He glances over at her though. “Are you two okay? I know you work together, so I wouldn’t want it to get weird.”

Oh. Micah stands up straighter, chest open for a second. Was he worried about her?

She swoops out of her seat. “We’re good. There’s just a lot to figure out with the farm and everything.” Micah doesn’t move, so she forces up a smile. “And what if we weren’t? You gonna fight him?”

Micah rolls his eyes. “Yeah, Mom. That’s the plan.”

She gasps. Rushes across the kitchen to him. “You wouldn’t fight for me?”

He ducks his head. “I’d be so bad. You need someone to fight for you get Ra—“ His grin slips the same time hers goes wooden. Rah’s the main one she’d need somebody to fight. “Just don’t get any fights, Mom. Come on, I want to see how this thing works.”

He heads to the cabinets to get the box down. She follows, watches him take it down and unpack the ice cream maker. She doesn’t have to be perfect. She doesn’t have to do it all. She doesn’t have to be right.

“Clean it first,” she tells him.

“I’m going.”

She doesn’t have to be perfect. She doesn’t have to be right. With help, maybe she can do it all.

.

.

.

**Author's Note:**

> tell me what you’re thinking, be it about the fic, or the show, or the fact that the midseason finale is about to air and put us on hiatus again...


End file.
